Silver Tongue Turned To Lead
by wordlings
Summary: Loki admits to letting the frost giants in before Thor is banished, and is consequently banished himself. A short canon-divergent, set in a bathroom in France. One-shot. Loki whump, if you squint.


Hello! Thank you in advance for reading.

Why France you ask? elephino.

I don't own anyone or anything :)

unbeta'd. 1,096 words.

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Loki splashes cold water on his face. He holds his hands there, palms to cheeks, long fingers pressed into his eyes. It's silent aside from his even breathing and the steady drip of the faucet.

drip drip drip.

The pressure from his fingers causes red spots to form behind his eyelids. He focuses on them. He counts them as they multiply, and he pushes harder, harder, into his eyes, focusing on the red spots, the pressure, the spots, spots, spots...

_"Father..." he began, but Father cut him short with an undignified growl, his fist raised. Loki fell back a step, his expression tightening. Father turned back to Thor with a weary look in his eye. Thor stared back warily, as if unsure what to expect._

_Father's expression hardened. Loki felt the air leave him, because it was a look he so often saw on his brother, a look of pure will and determination, a decision made, and he knew what that sort of look meant. He knew that look.._

He opens his eyes. Red spots still dance in his vision and the low light makes him squint as his hands slap wetly against the sink. He doesnt want to look at himself yet, so he looks about him. His hands are translucent and covered with red scratches and purpling bruises; there is white tape and wood holding his damaged pinky and third finger together on his right hand. The bathroom is painted the color of earth's sky, with yellow trimmings and white and silver appliances; their floor is grey tile.

He realizes there is water at his feet. He made a mess splashing his face; he turns and grabs the nearest towel to mop it up. He bends down with his bad hand gripping the sink, ignoring the twinge of his ribs and the ache in his legs as his knees hit the floor. He swipes and swipes to soak up the water, to clean the mess...clean his mess...

_"You are unworthy!" Father yelled, and then Father ripped at Thor, his armor coming off with each powerful wrench. He went on about unworthiness, betrayel, and Loki felt the lump in his throat swell, climbing like vomit. His chest was full of ice. His eyes were wet and burning. He felt himself shake and flinch at Father's words, as if it were him in Thor's place. It should have been. It should have been him, because, his fault, his plan, his mess, him, him, it should have been him.._

_ (he thought he could hear Thor saying, brother why won't you speak?)_

When the floor is dry he pulls himself back up slowly. He feels very weak, and now his knees are throbbing, so he leans fully onto the sink. His face is hot too and his throat is itchy. He tries to clear it but a strangled wet sound comes out instead. He catches sight of himself in the little oval mirror on the wall and finally takes in the damage: the gautness of the cheeks, the sunken eyes dimmed to pale blue, the thin lips cracked and parted in a silent cry. He is in fact crying, he notes, but the tears have yet to fall. Well, he wont force them.

There is a particularly nasty gash across his forehead, an angry red line arching jaggedly through his eyebrow, that throbs beneath expertly sewn stitches. He'd hit the ground head first and slept for days.

His chin is bruised, and his jaw, among other places. There are little white bandages all along his face. I look perfectly horrid, he thinks wryly, but can't help remembering that he's looked far worse: he's been trampled by a bildgesnipe in his youth and come home a bloody mess, eyes almost swollen shut, arm opened to the white of the bone. He hurt all over, yes, but it was his vanity that truly ached! What if he was permanently disfigured? Stars, he had wanted to cry. But he didn't because...

(He tries to smile into the mirror but his face is no longer one he recognizes)

He didn't because Thor was there beside him, because Thor was laughing with blood on his teeth and a broken leg, because Thor didn't cry, Thor never cried, Thor his foolish brother who'd gotten them in the mess in the first place, Thor who felt no guilt, who held no thoughts of treachery in his existence; Thor who was so easily manipulated..

_Father called Mjolnir to his hand. "I take from you your power!"_

_ It was wrong. It was all wrong. There were tears blurring Loki's vision, and tears in the eyes of Thor, and it was wrong, wrong, wrong, and Loki gasped at the weight of it, like Mjolnir rested on his chest._

_Father held the hammer back as if readying to strike. His voice rose to the pitch of a king. "In the name of my father"_

_ Bzzz. chink chink chink_

_ "And his father before!"_

_ Bzzz. chink chink chink_

_The armor fell away in bursts of light and metal. Loki made helpless strangled noises in his throat, his heart hammering painfully. He only did what he thought best, but now Thor was crying and he felt like he might die because Father was going to...was going to..._

_"I, Odin Allfather!"_

_"FATHER STOP!"_

Someone knocks twice. "Monsieur?" a tiny voice says behind the door. Loki blinks and the tears finally hit his cheeks. He wipes at them vigorously and wills the redness from his eyes.

(Red eyes. Blue Skin.)

He shakes that image from his mind and hurriedly replies, "A moment, demoiselle", in a low tone.

"Breakfast is ready, monsieur. Mama and Papa say come down please and we will eat together", the tiny voice says and then departs on tiny feet.

"Merci", Loki calls, but is unsure if it is heard. He splashes more water onto his face and takes a deep shuddering breath. The boy inside of him that is still a prince convinces him that it is alright to be rude, to skip the request of breakfast with inferior creatures and simply slip back into bed to lick his wounds; but the conscience of the man who is fallen from grace, disturbed and more than a little broken, drives him to capture any scrap of redemption he is offered. Loki dabs at his face with another soft towel, closing his eyes for only a moment..

_ "I LET THE FROST GIANTS INTO ASGARD!"_

He walks out, towel in hand, to greet the first day of his new life on earth.


End file.
